Charisma
by Random Clone
Summary: What ever happened after Omega Squad:Targets? Did Omega ever get their dinner? Fi made sure they did.


No, I'm not dead. At least, not yet. I just might kill myself for not updating Compassion for a bazillion years. I shall take the shame and flames boldly. (insert asterick here)yells for Boba frantically(iah)

Or not… (Ah, and I hit major writer's block with Compassion, but I will finish it, mark me words!)

This little thing is just a short story that I wrote for school (and didn't have to read it out loud, thankfully), and I thought that it was funny. Here we go!

* * *

Fi glanced out the transparisteel window of his bunker and grinned as he saw the rain pouring down—you always appreciated your bunk more when it was chilly, rainy, and generally nasty outside. 

He and his squad had just come back from an armed siege at Coruscant's Intergalactic Spaceport. Everything had worked out fine—except for the fact that Omega had returned to their barracks after supper. Fi shrugged to himself: the dinners weren't all that great, anyway. But maybe he could convince the cooks to give him—and his squad—a late night snackHopping off of his bunk, Fi strolled leisurely into the Mess Hall and headed towards the kitchens. He couldn't keep the grin off his face when he saw the rest of his squad assembled at the kitchen's entrance, as if hesitant to approach it.  
"No luck, huh Sarge?" Fi asked. Niner glared at him and clicked his teeth in annoyance. "No, Fi, we didn't." Fi gave Atin and Darman a cheerful grin and rocked back on his heels before saying, "You probably didn't ask them nice enough. Besides, _no one _would even _dream _of giving us dinner after seeing Atin's face. It's enough to give a Nikto a scare."  
"Shut up, Fi," Niner growled as Atin gave Fi an unpleasant look.

Seeing as his brothers were not in a harmonious frame of mind, Fi smiled ingratiatingly at them before easing past them into the kitchen. The room was empty, except for a lone cook tinkering at the far side. Rehearsing what he was going to say in his mind (Fi had never excelled at "passive negotiations"), Fi made his way towards the cook. As he got closer, his stomach folded in on itself when he realized who the cook was—Zaran Au, a fiery, little female Chadra-Fan. Although she only came up to Fi's waist, she had a temper like a Trandoshan's, and frankly, Fi was intimidated by her.

"Uh, excuse me ma'am, I was wonder—"

Zaran spun around at the sound of Fi's voice, a scowl marring her face. "What do you want? And what is your designation, trooper?" Fi snapped to attention out of pure reflex.

"RC-8015, _sir_! I came in to as—"

Zaran rose to her full height, to just above Fi's waist. "Are you blind, trooper? I am a _female, _and I _expect _to be treated with respect! I do _not _appreciate being mocked! And once again: what are you doing here?" Fi straightened a bit more. "I was going to request that my squad and I have meal, seeing as we are being deployed at 0800 hours, _si_—_ma'am_!" The Chadra-Fan narrowed her black eyes at him.

"And _why_ would ya want that? I already served dinner, and if ya didn't get any than that's _yer _own fault."

Fi swallowed hard before answering. "My squad was responding to a situation at the GC spaceport—"

"So yer wantin' me to believe that you and yer merry band of brothers were at that siege durin' mess time? What do ya take me for, trooper, a Trannie?"

Zaran glared up at him.

"Uh, no ma'am."

Zaran snorted and turned back to whatever-it-was she was doing, muttering under breath. Fi stood behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncertainly. "Uh, ma'am? Are you going to—?" Zaran whirled around, making an excellent impression of an angry rancor. It was all Fi could do not to cringe.

"_Yes_, I'm going to, you ungrateful vrelt! Now get out 'fore I change mind!"

Fi hurriedly touched his finger to his forehead. "Thank you, ma'am." Zaran slowly turned around and continued to mutter. Fi took the opportunity to scurry out of the kitchen. Being sure to plaster a self-satisfied grin on his face, Fi strode out into the Mess Hall, finding Darman, Atin, and Niner clustered around the entrance. Fi grinned wider.

"So, Sarge, you hungry? I got Zaran to cook us up some chow."

Niner narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Sure, Fi, you just walked in there and asked her to cook dinner and she said yes."

Fi grinned even wider. "Pretty much."

"I don't believe it. What'd you _do_ to get Zaran to cook us supper?" Darman asked curiously.

Fi leaned back against the Mess Hall's wall. "Ah, all you got to do is sweet-talk her. But then again, none of you possess my charming nature or irresistible good looks…"

"Shut up, Fi."

"Then again, we're all clones so maybe you possess my looks, just not my charm…"

"Shut up, Fi."

"You know this is the second time I've done this for you guys. You owe me seriously this time."

"Shut _up_, Fi."

"I'm being serious! There was that one time about three weeks ago--"

"Fi."

"What?"

"Shut up."

* * *

Now, dear friends, would be the time to click that handy little drop down bar and place a review... OR I SHALL SIC ORDO ON YOU! MWUHAHAHA! 


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